


You Cannot Save Me. Just Love Me.

by NotWhoIAppearToBe



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Admission of love, Atonement - Freeform, Heahmund seeks forgiveness, M/M, Purgatory, Resurrection, Travel to Kattegat, back from the dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-05-20 10:04:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19374493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotWhoIAppearToBe/pseuds/NotWhoIAppearToBe
Summary: Darkness and pain.That’s all he could see and feel.Everywhere he turns he feels pain throughout his body in this never ending darkness.Was he in hell? He doubted it. With the life he had led, he was most likely in some form of purgatory.Heahmund finds himself trapped in a world between the living and the dead. Only confession and atonement can save his soul but Ivar never makes things easy.





	1. Purgatory

Darkness and pain.

That’s all he could see and feel. 

Everywhere he turns he feels pain throughout his body in this never ending darkness.

Was he in hell? He doubted it. With the life he had led, he was most likely in some form of purgatory. Wherever he was, he was in limbo. Unable to move forward or back. He was neither living nor dead. All he had was the darkness, the pain and the memories that were seared into his brain.

He hears the murmur of voices as if he were underwater. What they say remain elusive to him as he struggles to understand, to wake out of this nightmare.

If time passes, he is unaware of it. He battles the demon within his own mind. He was not an honorable man. He was not a good man and if he is being honest, he was not a particularly good priest either. He had cloaked the darkness of his soul with a cross and a title but death stripped a man of all his presumptions and left him with his soul bared. Forced to look upon himself and reflect for the first time, Heahmund feels shame.

He feels no shame for the lies he told throughout his life nor does he feel shame for the sins he commits with the women he beds. The wealthy, the widows, the lonely and those who simply sought to warm his bed. No, he merely looks at those moments of his life with disinterest. When his memories turn to her, he has to look down.

Lagertha. She was the beginning of his end. He could not blame her for his betrayal of Ivar. Lagertha had merely been a means to an end for him. True she had saved him but now he was being forced to be true to himself and admit why he betrayed Ivar by joining her in her war against him.

There was no point in trying to lie to himself anymore. He was dead. He knew with certainty that he would not be allowed to enter the kingdom of Heaven unless he admitted to his sins and repented.

His truth was simple. In the short time he had spent with Ivar, he had come to recognize him as a kindred spirit. For the first time in his life there was someone who thought like him, who understood him and who was able to strip away his pretenses and see Heahmund for who he really was. The church often spoke of entwined destinies, souls that were destined to meet and share in a lifetime together. There were stories of such pairings though he had never taken much stock in them. They sounded like the kinds of stories wet nurses told to young children as a form of entertainment. 

Until Ivar.

Meeting him had changed everything for him. All their conversations and time spent together drew Heahmund closer to him. It became so that Heahmund would seek out Ivar just to see and converse with him and it seemed that Ivar often did the same. They did not think like normal men. It almost felt as if sometimes, Ivar spoke what was on Heahmund’s mind before he even had time to finish the thought.

He needed to be honest and truthful. He kept reminding himself of this as his mind shied away from his own self-confession.

Somewhere during his time with Ivar, the rage and resentment he had felt towards Ivar had begun to turn into reluctant admiration and respect. He began to see Ivar not as a pagan or heathen or the leader of the Great Heathen Army. In some part of his mind, he saw Ivar as an equal, perhaps even a friend. This was a great admission for him as he never really had friends, close or otherwise. He never thought or cared for them.

He stops his reflection and waits but he’s still stranded in time and place. 

Knowing his confession is not over, Heahmund wearily drops to the ground, fighting against the next part of what’s to come. It’s physically painful for him to think about it much less admit it. The longer he fights, the more pain he feels. It’s as if a burning hot brand is searing into his soul, determined to force him to confess.

With a shout, Heahmund finally sits up, sweat covering his body as he shivers from the pain he feels.

“I loved him! There! Are you happy? Is my confession complete? I betrayed him because I loved him. He made me weak and afraid. I am a bishop and I took vows for God. I promised to fulfill my duties to God first and foremost and yet you place me with pagans and lead me to him. You led me to Ivar. Was this all part of your plan? Why? Why would you do this Dear Lord? Why him? I have never known love. I do not know how to give it or receive it yet you have somehow chosen for me to love him. I betrayed him because I needed to leave. I am a coward! I know this! I would rather hurt him than admit to him I felt something for him. I am a man that loves another man and I do not know what to do!”

He lays on the floor, spent and exhausted, wondering if the Lord will finally end his purgatory. 

He remembers the moment he could admit he felt something for Ivar. They had been discussing the moon. When he had turned to look at Ivar and promised him he was the one. Ivar had stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief and hope. Such an intriguing combination but he had pulled back with a simple, “We’ll see.” That was Ivar’s way. A lifetime of betrayal, pain and neglect had led him to build this hard outer shell. No one could get in. Ivar only showed small facets of his personality to people. Heahmund was the exception. Almost from the start he had allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of Heahmund. It was these glimpses into his mind that had hooked Heahmund in. He told himself that he was merely trying to understand his enemy but that wasn’t the truth. He was trying to get to know and understand Ivar. As they spent more time together, he begins to open up to Ivar as well, telling him things about himself and his life. Things he has never told anyone else. It happened naturally with no thought behind it other than to show another side of himself to Ivar. It was the days leading up to the battle that inevitably made it easy for him to betray Ivar. His sword returned to him. More late night conversations. Looks and glances towards each other. When he realized what was happening, he had felt the world fall on top of him. This was not supposed to happen. How was this even possible?  
He betrayed Ivar not even thinking of the pain and damage he was causing. He betrayed him out of cowardice for himself. Lying and bedding a woman because he thought it was better than to condemn himself with Ivar.

His thoughts are bleak when he starts to feel it. It’s the pull of something within him that makes him sit up again. He can’t figure out what is happening to him, only that he feels as if something is pulling at his very soul.

“Lord? What is happening to me? Something is wrong.”

Those are the last thoughts Heahmund has as he wakes with a gasping breath causing the healer monk in the room to freeze in shock and drop the basin of water and rags he had been holding.  
Shaking, Heahmund glances around and realizes he’s in one of the anterooms of a church where his body was likely being prepared for burial. 

Looking down, he sees his sword on his chest and his armor on him, now clean. Turning back to the monk, he moves to leave the coffin he’s in. 

“How long?”

The sentence isn’t finished. The monk crosses himself and keeps staring, stunned and not a little scared.

“Two days Your Grace. They brought you in after the battle two days ago. You are to be buried today. Were. Were to be buried.”

He walks up to Heahmund, his hand outstretched as if to make sure he’s really there and alive.

“But how? It’s a miracle Bishop Heahmund. A true miracle from God. We must let King Alfred know!”

Heahmund quickly grasps him by the wrist before the man can leave.

“No! No.”

He climbs out on shaky legs, using the man’s arm to help himself stand straight. He feels weak but he supposed that was to be expected.

“Please. No one can know. Help me.”

His eyes plead with the monk to help him. He needs to leave. He remembers every detail of his purgatory and knows what he needs to do but first he needs to leave. 

“Let them think I am dead. Bury something else but please. Help me. God has shown me my path and it is not here. They must not know I am alive. Please.”

He does not think the monk will help him but something in his pleas must have caught the man’s attention. Perhaps it was the desperation in them or perhaps God was giving him one final gift but the monk nods and moves quickly. He gestures for Heahmund to follow him. He’s given a black cloak, long and to the ground with a large hood to cover his face. A traveler's cloak. He also gives him a small pouch with a few gold coins inside.

“I’m afraid I cannot help you much more than this. There are other soldiers waiting to be buried. I will place one in your box and seal it before the services this afternoon. You should go. The streets will be crowded right now with everyone trying to reach the church. You can blend in with the crowd and go. God bless you Bishop Heahmund and safe travels.”

He walks Heahmund to a door towards the back of the anteroom, adjusting the cloak so that no one can see the man beneath it. He gives Heahmund a brief nod before he leaves to quickly get the body of a soldier in similar stature to Heahmund. No one would look twice or ask questions. After all, his job was to prepare all the dead soldiers for their burials. There were still a few yet to be buried. He would select one to take the place of the bishop.

For his part, Heahmund limps slowly to the gates, keeping his gaze down as much as he can. When he reaches the gates, he casually goes to the stables adjoining them and takes a horse. With everyone hurrying to the church and the square, he is able to leave unseen.

He hurts and he’s hungry but he knows he needs to leave immediately.

He has a brief stray thought of leaving Wessex and going to Paris and starting his life over but he knows that is now why he was brought back. God did not give him a second chance just for him to run like a coward. He had already done that once.

With grim determination, he keeps the horse going knowing that at the next big settlement, he would have to find passage and a way to make it back to Kattegat and Ivar.

He had amends to make.


	2. Anguish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How long has it been?”
> 
> “Since he received word of the bishop’s death.”
> 
> “This seems out of character for him. Why would he care so much?”
> 
> “Hvitserk. Open your eyes. Don’t you realize what’s going on?”
> 
> Having returned to Kattegat, Ubbe and Hvitserk face the realization that Ivar loved the bishop and must now figure out how to help him as he grieves.

“How long has it been?”

“Since he received word of the bishop’s death.”

“This seems out of character for him. Why would he care so much?”

“Hvitserk. Open your eyes. Don’t you realize what’s going on?”

“No...what am I missing?”

There’s an audible sigh before Ubbe responds.

“He loved the bishop Hvitserk. Despite the fact that the bishop betrayed him, Ivar loved him. He’s grieving and dealing with the pain of the bishop’s betrayal.”

“That’s not right. He hasn’t eaten and he’s not sleeping much. Surely there is something else wrong.”

“It’s not for us to say. We do not know the depth of Ivar’s feelings but one does not act like this unless it’s for love.”

Settling the tray down on the ground, Hvitserk knocks softly and calls out to Ivar.

“Ivar? There’s food for you outside if you get hungry. Please eat something.”

Hvitserk and Ubbe walk away, Hvitserk still struggling to understand this revelation about his brother and Ubbe hurting for him, knowing that Ivar finally opened himself to loving someone only to be betrayed and have that love taken from him.

“Come Hvitserk. More merchants are expected to arrive later today to talk trade. We need to prepare as well as see what else needs our attention.”

**************************

In his room, Ivar stares blindly out the window. 

His mind keeps replaying the moments he shared with Heahmund. Their conversations, their games and for a brief time, the glances and smiles that had filled him with hope. The hope that here perhaps he had finally found a friend. Someone who would know him and accept him as he was. Someone who would love him as he loved them. For that brief perfect moment, he thought it was Heahmund.

His betrayal had hurt him, his anger and rage consuming him until he had vowed to have him crucified if he ever saw him again.

He had heard a rumor that the bishop had fallen in battle but like all rumors, he had waved it away. Heahmund was too great a warrior to have fallen in battle. Until Ubbe had returned and confirmed it. Ubbe had seen him fall. 

Disbelief had flared through him as he lashed out at Ubbe, prepared to throw his knife at him until Ubbe handed Ivar a wooden cross hung on a piece of leather.

It was with shaky hands that Ivar took the cross. He knew this cross well. Heahmund had always worn it around his neck, praying with it and kissing it as lovingly as he did his sword. He had often mocked the bishop for it and had once taken his knife and made a rune carving on it before Heahmund had angrily pushed him away and cursed at him for putting his sacrilegious markings on his beloved cross.

Ivar had laughed at his extreme reaction to a piece of wood and had told the bishop to go carve himself another one.

Heahmund’s look of disgust had been answer enough.

Ivar had taken the cross and retreated to his room, locking himself inside and had since refused to see anyone, barely ate and what sleep he did get was fitful. 

What he did not do was cry. His grief was beyond tears. Ivar had retreated into a place in his own mind where he could hide. Where he could relive the brief yet happier moments he had with Heahmund. A part of him knew he could not stay there forever but he was not yet ready to let go. In his mind, Heahmund was still alive, there with him and still enjoying their verbal sparring. His Heahmund was not in some Christian graveyard, rotting away for eternity. Despite having fallen in battle, he would not let his Heahmund go to Valhalla or his Christian Heaven. His rightful place was beside Ivar.

He heard Ubbe and Hvitserk and shook himself out of his reverie momentarily. Looking over his shoulder, he decides that speaking would require too much effort and he did not yet want to speak to his brothers. They would have questions he had no desire to answer.

Rubbing his chest, he feels the imprint of the cross against his chest. It was foolish and who knows what people would say if they knew he wore the bishop’s cross now, tucked under his clothing. It was the only part of Heahmund he had left and wanted him close to him at all times. Taking the cross out, he rubs his fingers against the wood, tracing the shape of it and the small rune he had carved before something wet hits the wood.

Giving it a gentle kiss as he had so often seen Heahmund do, he clutches it tightly in his hand, as the tears slowly roll down his face.

A loud keening wail is heard in the great hall alerting Ubbe that something is wrong. It’s when he finally crashes open Ivar’s door that he sees him on the floor, the cross in his hand and his sobs filling the room with sound. 

It is Ubbe that goes to sit on the ground with his baby brother, cradling his head as Ivar cries in his arms for the loss of the bishop he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Ubbe returned to Kattegat to ensure Ivar didn't destroy the city as its King.  
> * Hvitserk returned mostly because he does not yet know what path to take in his life.  
> * Ivar is not catatonic but struggling to grieve the loss of Heahmund.


	3. Hidden Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heahmund's return to Kattegat does not go as expected as the unlikeliest person finds and helps him.

He was tired. The journey to Kattegat had taken a toll on his already weak body. He was nowhere near recovered from his injuries on the battlefield. The wounds from the arrows and the wound on his back were still raw, tender and had the tendency to bleed at the slightest provocation. The fact that he kept shivering and sweating let him know he had a fever and his body was fighting an infection.

He’s given comfort when he hears someone yell out that Kattegat was on the horizon. Wrapping his cloak close to his body, he stands on shaky legs and recognizes the outline. A vague smile crosses his lips as he sits back down against the mast. He’s so tired. Closing his eyes for a moment, he starts to think of what he will say to Ivar when he sees him. He has to find a way to get close to Ivar to speak to him. It wouldn’t be easy. He didn’t think Ivar would kill him right away. He would very likely be given the opportunity to speak to him at least once before Ivar had him killed but at least he could clear his conscience and apologize. Maybe he would be given the opportunity to tell Ivar how he felt. 

His eyes still closed, the lull of the boat feels soothing. His thoughts are now muddled, almost confused as he falls unconscious, his body tipping to the right with the motion of the boat as it arrives. It is only when the boat is docked and tied to the harbor that anyone notices him. As they prepare to disembark and prepare their wares for trade, the sailors gather around Heahmund trying to figure out what to do with him before the captain calls for a healer. There was some slight confusion as to what to do with him if he died. He wasn’t one of their own and he had paid for passage without offering his name or any information about himself. The man had simply paid and kept to himself, speaking as little as possible while keeping his cloak wrapped around him and a hood over his face most of the time.

********************

Hvitserk is close to the docks when the newest boat arrives. Eating an apple, he stands by as he waits for them to all disembark to talk trade. Frowning, he wonders why they’re taking so long. Feeling slightly put out that Ubbe isn’t there and that the sailors and merchants are taking forever, he walks to the docks and stands by the boat.

“What are you doing? You are wasting time standing around there! I thought you all came to trade!”

The men look at him before one of them walks up to Hvitserk.

“Sorry but a stranger paid for passage and either he’s dead or he’s close to being dead. Strange fellow too. Didn’t speak much. Pushy and demanding that he had to come here to Kattegat. We don’t normally take passengers but he would not give up.”

Hvitserk takes in the information before making a decision. If the man was dead, it was better to be rid of his body soon. If he was close to death, perhaps someone could see to him. Walking onto the boat, he first sees a man turned on his side, cloak covering the majority of his torso. Kneeling by him, he places a hand on his shoulder to nudge him and see if he’s awake. His nudge caused the man to flop on his back. The movement knocked the hood back exposing his face. 

His eyes wide, Hvitserk stares in shock at who he is seeing. Moving quickly, he leans forward, hand on Heahmund’s neck, relieved when he finds a pulse.

“You! Olav, Einir. Help me carry him! Be careful!”

He’s shouting orders to the men nearby who look at him like he’s crazy but know enough not to argue. Adjusting the hood, he recovers Heahmund’s face. He doesn’t want anyone else to see him before Ivar can. 

Shouting out to one of the men, Hvitserk gives quick instructions. 

“We take him to the healer. He’s just a sick man who needs to be cured. Geir, call Ubbe immediately. Tell him I need to speak to him about a problem with the merchants. Say nothing else.”

He awkwardly helped carry the unconscious man until they reached the healers hut who took one look at Heahmund and seemed reluctant to help him until Hvitserk threatened her. Working quickly, she called for a slave to help her strip him down and they began to clean his wounds. 

Waiting in the corner, observing quietly, Hvitserk wondered if he was out of his mind. The battle had been over for a while. Heahmund was dead yet his wounds still had not healed. What had he been doing during this time? And Ubbe had sworn he had seen Heahmund fall in battle and had seen his body. How could Ubbe have been wrong? There were so many unanswered questions but first and foremost, what to tell Ivar. 

“Hvitserk? What are you doing here?”

Ubbe’s voice called out to him, distracting him from his own thoughts. Opening the curtain, he ushers Ubbe in and merely points to the man currently getting some salve rubbed into his wounds then having clean linen wrapped around them. Ubbe frowns at first, not understanding why Hvitserk called him in to see a wounded man but when he sees his face, he only feels shock.

“It’s not possible Hvitserk. I saw him fall. I saw him die. There was no life left in him. When I left, they had already begun to prepare to bury him. By all the gods, what has happened?”

“I do not know but he is here, he is alive and if he’s returned, there can only be one reason. He came back for Ivar.”  
It’s as if the name stirs something in Heahmund. Opening his eyes, he looks around and tries to get up but is too weak to do more than shift restlessly and fall back, softly calling out for the one person he needs to see.

“Ivar…”

Ubbe and Hvitserk stare at him, trying to decide what to do. There was no telling what Ivar would do if he found out Heahmund was alive and back in Kattegat. Kill him most likely. 

“We need to speak to him, find out what happened, what he knows and why he’s back. Ivar can’t know about him yet. Not while he’s like this.”

Hvitserk stared at his brother, confused at first then slowly realizing what Ubbe was suggesting.

“You mean to hide him from Ivar until he’s better. How do you think we can do that? Ivar knows everything that happens here.”

Ubbe pauses to think for a short moment.

“Floki’s home. It’s abandoned. When it’s dark, we take him there. No one but us and the healer will know he’s here. The slave can attend to him when we can’t be there. We take turns to take supplies and whatever is needed until he has healed and can face Ivar on his own two feet and not as a dying sick man.”

“And if he dies Ubbe? What then?”

“Ivar already thinks he’s dead. No one will have to know. He stays here for now. Tonight, when most everyone has gone to sleep, we will carry him to Floki’s home. He will be safe. Ivar won’t think to go there. I’ll go handle the merchants. You go with the slave and have her clean it as best she can. Take some basic things. Food, blankets and more herbs, salve and clean linen. I’ll make your excuses if Ivar asks.”

Both men turn to stare at the now sleeping man, bandaged and drawn. Both wondered what had happened to him and what it had taken for him to return. Troubled, Ubbe leaves instructions with the healer to prepare what was necessary then leaves to go deal with the merchants as Hvitserk goes with the slave to prepare Floki’s former home.


	4. Ivar and Heahmund

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heahmund is desperate to see Ivar but Ubbe will not make it easy for him.

Waking with a groan, it takes Heahmund a few minutes to adjust his eyes to the light and figure out where he was at. It’s the sound of rustling that draws his attention to a woman opening a door and leaving.

“We were wondering when you were going to wake up Bishop Heahmund.”

Looking over, he’s shocked to see Ubbe and Hvitserk sitting at a nearby table, bowls of meat and bread in front of them as they both stared at him, neither looking surprised by his appearance. Clearly he had made it to Kattegat but judging by his movements and his wounds were not paining him too much, he had been here a while.

“Where is Ivar?”

Knowing he had reached his destination and he was still alive gave him some small comfort until he saw the look the brothers gave each other. It was Ubbe who gestured for him to stand and join them. Neither brother made a move to help him so he slowly got up on weak and shaky legs but was able to go to the table under his own willpower. Sitting slowly, he looks on as Ubbe shoves his own bowl in front of him.

“Eat. You’ve been surviving on broth and you need to regain your strength.”

“Where is Ivar?”

Again he asks. The fact that neither responds right away worries him. Had something happened to Ivar? He feels dread course through him as he waits for one of them to reply to him.

“Is he ok? What’s happened?”

Ubbe leans back in his chair and contemplates his answer as he looks at Heahmund, staring at him while Hvitserk merely shakes his head and continues to eat. As far as he’s concerned, they kept the bishop alive but now it is up to the man to figure out how to stay alive if and only if the decide he can see Ivar again.

“Ivar is alive if that’s what you are asking. Why are you here Bishop? Why did you come back?”

Heahmund stubbornly stays quiet for a long moment, not wanting to give Ubbe answers that weren’t for him.

“I need to see Ivar.”

“No. Have you not hurt my brother enough already Bishop? You betrayed him. My brother loved you and you betrayed him. No, what you did was worse than betrayal. You betrayed him for his biggest enemy. And yet he did not stop loving you. When he heard you had fallen, when he heard it from me that you had died, he mourned you. He still continues to mourn for you. Whatever relationship was between you, friends or lovers, it meant something to Ivar. You should know, Ivar has never let anyone get close to him except for Floki. He has always kept himself separate from even his own brothers. Then he met you. A Christian bishop who saw something in him that no one else ever got to see. You never saw him as a cripple. Somehow, you were able to see beneath the cruel and dangerous mind and see the real Ivar. An Ivar even his brothers are not very familiar with. And he saw something in you. He saw beneath the pious holy exterior to the person you really are. And despite all this, you two forged something together that by all reason should not exist. And you broke it and in doing so, you broke that small part of my brother that was learning to see beyond his own needs and desires and learning to really love. So no, Bishop. You do not get to see or go near my brother until you tell me why Hvitserk and I shouldn’t just kill you and let him grieve until he’s past it and can move on. Tell me why we should let you anywhere near him again.”

Heahmund still remains silent, looking down at his hands in his lap, shame on his face. Hearing what Ubbe has told him makes him uncomfortable. He hates that he’s feeling guilt but he knows he deserves to feel it. If this was to be part of his journey towards redemption and forgiveness, so be it. What he had done was unforgivable for many. Still, he held on to the slim hope that what Ubbe had said was still true. Ivar loved him. 

“Well Bishop? Are you going to tell us why you are here? Let’s start with the beginning. I saw you fall. I saw your body put into the wagon. You were dead Heahmund and yet here you are. I know what I saw. How is it you are still alive?”

Well this he could at least answer even though they may not believe him.

“I was dead. I was dead for two days but I never moved on. Not to heaven with my God nor to hell with Lucifer himself. For us Christians, there is a place where our souls reside when the lives we lead and the mistakes we have made have rendered us unable to go to heaven but we are not so sinful to go to hell. It is there that I finally heard my God speak to me. There will be no forgiveness for me. At least not until I atone for what I did to Ivar.”

Finally looking up, Heahmund stares at Ubbe and finds himself confessing everything he could not say before.

“Yes, I betrayed your brother. I made him promises and oaths and I broke them. If he chooses to have me crucified, burned or beheaded, I will deserve it and will welcome death with open arms but I at least have to try to atone and explain to him why I did it. Any other words I have are for Ivar and Ivar alone. Now, will you let me see Ivar or not?”

He watched the brothers exchange looks before Hvitserk finally spoke up, hesitating over his words.

“Ivar is not the same man you remember. He is grieving and is likely to lash out at you, hurt you. Are you certain you do not want to wait until you are stronger to see him? He’s unpredictable at the best of times. Are you certain about this bishop?”

Heahmund does not hesitate. He’s willing to face the repercussions of his actions. His own strength does not matter. Strong or weak, he knows he cannot put off this conversation with Ivar. The sooner he gets it over with, the better. Then at least he will know what he will do and what will become of his life, one way or the other. 

The brothers can see his determination and both know it will be futile to try and get him to wait before acting. 

“You are a fool bishop. A wiser man would regain his strength and go in ready to battle and face whatever is coming to him. You showing up limping, weak and wretched will gain you no sympathy. Ivar admired your strength as a warrior. Do you really think you have any chance of speaking longer than a moment before he flings his axe at you when you look so pathetic?”

Temper lights Heahmund’s eyes but he’s ready. He knows he cannot delay the inevitable. He needs to see Ivar and he needs to see him now. Both Ubbe and Hvitserk can see that arguing with the bishop is useless. Much like Ivar, he’s stubborn and always determined to do things his own way. Shrugging, Hvitserk stands to retrieve the bishop’s belongings and clothing. Both Ubbe and Hvitserk stand and say nothing as Heahmund dresses, his movements slow but steady. The only thing he does not get is his sword. Ubbe merely smiles and holds on to it.

Flanking Heahmund, Ubbe and Hvitserk walk slowly back to the city, nervous about what kind of reception they will receive. Once inside the city gates, their arrival causes quite a stir. Not because of the brothers but because many people recognize the man walking between them. 

To his credit, Heahmund ignores the stares and whispers of the people. Some were whispering, asking and believing that he was a ghost. Those that had been in battle and had seen him fall were stunned at seeing him walking past them with Ubbe and Hvitserk at his sides.

When they entered the great hall, Ubbe and Hvitserk ushered everyone away and out. They were not sure what to expect when Ivar finally saw Heahmund but it was best if no one was around for that inevitable explosion.

Reaching Ivar’s room, both the brothers stop as Ubbe gestures to Heahmund. He was on his own now. They leave as Heahmund sighs and gives a brief prayer for strength as his heart pounds in his chest. Entering, he immediately sees Ivar as he sits, his back to him and hunched as if he carries a heavy burden on his shoulders. He walks in, his movements making a sound that attract Ivar’s attention. He lifts his head but does not turn around.

“What is it?”

He assumes it’s Ubbe or Hvitserk coming to see him yet again.

It tears at Heahmund to see Ivar looking defeated and worse, knowing it is his fault. Forgetting his own nerves, he walks to him and kneels before him, lifting one hand to place on Ivar’s cheek. 

“Ivar. Look at me. Please.”

Ivar stares at him in confusion for a long time, certain he’s dreaming. His own hand reaches up to touch Heahmund’s as he leans in. They sit that way for a while, foreheads touching as Heahmund repeatedly whispers his apologies to Ivar while Ivar shakes his head, not sure if he’s gone mad or if he’s dreaming. 

Long moments pass before Heahmund feels the cold tip of a blade pressing against his chest, Ivar’s breathing growing heavy as rage begins to overtake him. He pulls back slowly, blue eyes glittering with malice as he stares at Heahmund. 

“Give me one good reason why I should not drive this into your heart right now Heahmund.”

As he speaks, he presses the blade harder until Heahmund feels it cut into his flesh, his blood starting to seep through as Ivar shakes with fury. 

“Because I love you.”

The knife digs deeper as Ivar stares at him.

"Don't ever say those words to me again. They mean nothing!"

Removing the knife, they sit there, staring at each other but neither moving yet.


	5. Bitter Winds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chained and imprisoned, Heahmund experiences deja vu as he finds himself once again to be Ivar's prisoner.

It was cold. So cold. Heahmund shivered but no complaint crossed his lips. He curls his body into itself to try and preserve some of his own body heat but the draft coming in from the spaces in the room and the window ensure he will freeze that night. Shifting to get more comfortable, the sound of the chains around his wrists and ankles make the only sound in the otherwise desolate room.

Once Ivar had realized he was not dreaming or hallucinating Heahmund, he had ordered him to be chained and imprisoned again. This time, Ivar did not visit or come to see him to have more philosophical talks. Days had passed and he had not seen or spoken to anyone. He was left chained and bound and much to his surprise, unfed. It would seem Ivar would either see to it that he froze to death or starved. Possibly both with the cold winds picking up as winter slowly began to take its claim over the land. He’s tired, he’s cold and he’s hungry. He knew that by returning here, he was putting his life in the hands of a person who had fits of anger, rage and instability over his emotions. He had held on to some hope that he would be able to reason with Ivar but that was short lived. Heahmund accepted his punishment and his fate without complaint. Loyalty and honor were important to the Northmen and Heahmund had none in their eyes. Shivering again, he begins to cough as he curls himself up even tighter and hopes to find some sleep.

*****************************

Inside the warmth of his rooms, Ivar idly twirled his knife as he listened to Ubbe and Hvitserk try to talk to him about Heahmund.

“Is this your plan then? Starve the man to death? Let him freeze to death? There are other more painful ways or faster ways of killing him you know. Why not just crucify him or something else if you want his death Ivar?”

Glaring at Ubbe, Ivar attempted to deflect his words.

“Since when do you care Ubbe? Did you forget how he humiliated you and cut you in Wessex? Are you so easily able to forgive? Or are you really a Christian now?”

“You can try to anger me or distract me Ivar but my words remain. Why are you dragging this out? Do you not at least want to find out how he is still alive when I myself saw the man die? I saw his body. There was no life in him and yet he lives. The gods favored him and gave him his life back. I do not think they did that just so you could spite them and make the man die an unnatural death such as this. You forget little brother. Hvitserk and I have been here, keeping the city and the people safe while you mourned and grieved for him. Lie to yourself if you like but you cannot lie to us. You love him but it is your own pride and anger that are making you act like this…”

“ENOUGH! He will stay as is until I say different and if he dies before then, it was simply fated. Now get out!”

Knowing it was useless to argue, Ubbe left while Hvitserk took his time before stopping at the door. He had stayed silent the entire time Ivar and Ubbe and been arguing and only now did he speak.

“If his death is what you want, it should not be too long. He was heard coughing quite a bit. The kind of cough that signals illness. A few more days, I think.”

With those final words, Hvitserk walked out leaving Ivar glaring at him but Hvitserk’s words had their desired effect. Ivar could not sleep that night. He kept hearing Hvitserk’s words in his head. He kept telling himself that Heahmund deserved what he got but he would close his eyes and hear coughing. Fed up, he finally gets himself out of his warm bed and puts his braces back on. He would go look for himself and prove that Hvitserk was lying or exaggerating Heahmund’s condition. Once his braces were on, he reaches for his walking stick and his furs. Walking slowly and with care, he leaves his rooms and the great hall and makes his way slowly to where he has Heahmund chained. As he gets closer, he becomes aware of a few things. It’s colder than he had realized and he can hear coughing. Dread begins to fill him as he moves a little faster, signalling to the men he has stationed guard outside the room to open the door and move. When he steps inside, he has to bite his lip to keep from making any sound.

Heahmund is on the floor, curled up, pale and gaunt. The days without food were taking their toll on his face. His once handsome face is taut with pain and the days without food. An unfamiliar feeling begins to fill Ivar, one he is not too familiar with other than the haunting memories of Sigurd. Guilt. It’s guilt that he’s feeling now.

Why is he feeling guilt? He has no reason to feel like this. Heahmund betrayed him. Heahmund had lied to him and betrayed him for the whore Lagertha. This is the least of what he deserved. 

His mental argument with himself is interrupted by Heahmund coughing. Ivar felt alarm at seeing Heahmund’s body shake as he coughs, the sound of the cough unlike anything he’s ever seen before. Moving close to him, he awkwardly shifts and maneuvers himself until he’s down on the ground. Removing his glove, he reaches out to touch Heahmund’s face and immediately calls for the guards.

“Unchain him!. Take him to my quarters and summon the healer. Now!”

Heahmund had felt unnaturally hot. His skin was burning up despite his cough and the brutally cold weather. Ivar slowly moved to get up as the guards removed the chains from Heahmund’s wrists and ankles. As they carried him out, Ivar followed as quickly as he could, mentally cursing himself for letting things get this far. He hated that he could not let him go. He’d wanted to punish him so he could feel the same pain Ivar had felt but not like this. Not like this.

Reaching his room, he sits on the other side of the bed as the healer comes in with two thralls who quickly begin to remove Heahmund’s clothes. He observes as he’s covered in furs to preserve warmth. He stays quiet as the healer orders broth to be made for Heahmund. He watches with sharp eyes as it’s spooned little by little into his mouth. He tries not to panic as Heahmund starts to cough, little flecks of blood coming out of his mouth when he coughs.

The night drags on as he stays by Heahmund’s side, finally removing his braces and his own armor and clothes and lays with Heahmund, hoping the heat of his own body will help calm the shivers that keep permeating Heahmund’s. He’s tired but he cannot leave him. The only light in the room is from the fire that keeps the room warm. Ivar spends the night watching Heahmund, worried and exhausted and hoping he had not pushed Heahmund too far.

“Wake up Heahmund. Come back to me. We have much to talk about. Wake up. Please.”

Ivar finally falls asleep and when he wakes, Heahmund is still asleep. Moving quietly, he gets out of the bed and gets dressed quickly. He stays by Heahmund’s side and helps as more broth is slowly poured into his mouth. That is where Hvitserk and Ubbe find him. An empty bowl on the floor and a look of misery on his face as he watches his priest struggle to breathe as he keeps coughing up blood onto the cloth Ivar holds by his face to clean him.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hated the ended (no surprise) and decided to tweak the ending of the story to suit my own vision of the Ivar/Heahmund pairing.  
> The first chapter is all Heahmund but we will see Ivar soon enough.  
> In this AU, Ivar sits as King of Kattegat, Lagertha having died in battle, Bjorn left to travel and explore, not wanting to remain in Kattegat while Ivar is King. Ubbe and Hvitserk remained behind with Ivar. Ubbe to ensure Ivar does not destroy Kattegat and Hvitserk stayed because he really knows no other life or ambition beyond staying there.


End file.
